Vergilius | Page 9

be put upon him. The great beasts were asleep in their cages, and Antipater prodded them with a lance. A thunder in their throats seemed to fill the air and shake the flames in the lampadaria. With sword and lance Antipater entered the arena, a space barred high, about thirty feet square, upon which all the cages opened.
"The tiger!" he commanded.
Keepers lifted a metal gate, and the huge cat leaped away from their lances, backed snarling to the end of his cage, and with a slow, creeping movement put his head and fore-paws into the arena; then a swift step or two, a lowering of the great head, and side-long he stood, with eyes aglow and fangs uncovered, a low mutter in his mouth, like the roar of a mighty harp-string. Some fifteen feet away stood the son of Herod, his lance poised.
"Never strike while your beast has a foot to the ground," said he, keeping his gaze on the face of the tiger. "He will be quick to move and parry. Wait until he is in the air, and then thrust your lance."
He made a feint with his weapon; the tiger darted half his length aside, with a great, bursting roar, and, crouching low, stealthily felt the ground beneath him.
"Watch him now," said the tall Antipater. "He will leap soon."
Again he drove him forward, and then the beast turned, facing his tormentor, and crouched low. There, in a huge setting of bone and muscle strangely fitted to its fierceness, with eyes of fire and feet of deadly stealth, its back arched like a drawn bow, the wild heart of the son of Herod seemed to be facing him.
"Look!" a slave shouted. "He has bent his bow."
The haired lip of the beast quivered; great cords of muscle were drawn tense. Like a flash the bow sprang and the columns of bone beneath him lifted, flinging his long, striped body in the air. With cat-like swiftness Antipater stepped aside, and while the huge beast was in mid-air, thrust the lance into his heart. He bore with all his strength and rushed away, seizing an other weapon. The big cat fell and rose and struck at the clinging lance, and stood a second flooding the floor with blood. Then down he went shuddering to his death. The young men shouted loud their applause in honor of Herod's son. While the beast was dying slaves came and sanded the floor. Then, presently, they swept up the red sand, and tying a rope to the legs of the limp tiger, dragged him away. They had done this kind of work before, and each knew his part. Presently Antipater called two of them.
"Bring that girl Cyran--she that chants of her new king," said he, as they ran to do his bidding.
"Noble prince, the strange god is again at work in me," said Vergilius, with rising ire. "I could not bear to see you put her with the leopard; I should rather face him myself."
"You!" said the other, tauntingly, and with a shrewd purpose. The youths turned to see if Vergilius would really accept the challenge. No man had ever faced a black leopard at close quarters without suffering death or injury.
"I," said Vergilius, promptly. "If it is amusement you desire, I can supply it as well as she. Surely I have more blood in me. If you wish only to feed the leopard--will I not make a better feast?"
A sound hushed them. It was the slave-girl, singing as she came near:
"Send, quickly send, the new king whose arrows shall fly as the lightning, Making the mighty afraid and the proud to bow low and the wicked to tremble. Soon let me hear the great song that shall sound in the deep of the heavens; Show me the lantern of light hanging low in the deep of the heavens."
She was fair to look upon as she came, led by the carnifex, her form, draped in soft, transparent linen, like that of a goddess in its outline, her face lighted even with that light of which she sang.
"The girl against a hundred denarii that you cannot live an hour in the arena with him," said Antipater, hotly.
"I accept the wager," Vergilius calmly answered, laying off his robe and seizing a lance. He entered the arena and closed its gate behind him. "Drive the beast in upon me, son of Herod; and you, Gracus, be ready to hand me another lance."
The black leopard spat fiercely and struck at the points that were put upon it, the deep rumble in its throat swelling into loud crescendos. Of a sudden it bounded through the gateway and stood a moment, baring great fangs. The animal threatened with long hisses. Vergilius held its eye, his lance raised. The hissing ceased, the growl